But it was too much all at once, and she couldn’t stop her screams, her pleas. And yet, the brutality of his cockpistoning deep and his hands holding her down flipped her switches exactly right, and an orgasm crashed through her like a storm, her body convulsing, pussy clenching on nothing while waves of scorching bliss ripped and undulated through her until she collapsed, gasping,
But the vampire didn’t slow, he kept going despite the fact her arousal levels dropped. Her screams were of agony now, but it didn’t matter. He had her for the duration, and he’d take his pleasure of her until he was finished. In fact, she became certain he took evenmorepleasure in her pain, the only kind he could give a level one.
Eventually, a violin screeched a horrible high-pitched scrape in a discordant flourish that signaled the actual feeding frenzy, and the vampire lowered his face to her neck, sliced his fangs through skin and muscle, injected a cocktail to make her needier than she could ever remember being, and held her upper body still while her lower body writhed and throbbed. He drank deeply before injecting the orgasm cocktail, and then pounded her once again, but now she welcomed it, her screams raw and primal, a million sensations roaring through her body, overwhelming her, consuming her from within, amplifying every nerve ending. Her body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over her in relentless, mind-shattering spasms. The venom coursed through her, heightening every sense, making her aware of every inch of flesh, every breath, every heartbeat.
Once again, she stayed put after the vampire was gone, basking in the bliss, the pain, the mindfuck of enjoying what had just happened all over again. What did it mean that sheenjoyed the whole faux-rape thing, now? She wasn’t a submissive, and yet, the scenario had once again worked for her. Sheneverenjoyed handing over power, but this had been play-acting that she gave it over. How did that make it different?
She wasn’t sure, but she was hungry, so she sat up, walked to the wall, turned in the torn dress and the jewels, and made her way to the showers via the center pole.
She found Felix playing video games in the flock’s common area after her shower, and she walked to the cafeteria with him.
The cafeteria had once again outdone themselves, and she devoured endless pork chops with a molasses glaze, and she thought she picked up a tiny hint of mustard. The sides of mashed potatoes with cheddar and chives, roasted beets with an orangy-thyme flavor, and beans that had clearly been cooked in pork fat just added to the explosion of flavors.
She tried a taste of Felix’s faux meatloaf, which he said were made from lentils, mushrooms, and breadcrumbs. It was good, but once again, couldn’t hold a candle to the pork chops. He had sauteed greens with pecans instead of her beans, but she had zero interest in tasting them.
“Did ya’ll see the notice about the next ball, the Versailles Carnivale, being postponed a week?” Rhea asked, fork pausing mid-air.
“Yeah,” Emmy answered. “Does that mean they’re close to nailing the poison bastard? Or bitch, I suppose.”
“Women poison more than men, right?” Toby asked. “Might not mean anything for this, though.”
“Could mean they’re just buying time and are clueless,” Felix said. “In which case, we’re all fucked. I’m not sure I can go through that again. My heart felt…” He shook his head. “It was scary the first time, but terrifying during the worst of it this time.”
“Wasn’tthatbad for me,” Toby said, “but still exponentially worse than the first time. I figure postponing means they’re circling in, though.”
Emmy wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t want to add negativity to the conversation, so she went back for three more pork chops and a little more mashed potatoes, the echoes of her last orgasm still thrumming through her veins.
Twenty minutes after she finished her meal, Emmy was reading in their room when her insides twisted like they were about to eject everything in her stomach and bowels all at once. She raced out of her room and into the bathroom, barely making it before diarrhea exploded and vomit surged, burning her throat raw and making a mess on the floor. The room tilted with the sour reek, and she wretched into the floor again while she continued to fill the toilet bowl.
Felix came in behind her, and she managed to tell him, “Get out,” before another wave hit and more partially digested food came out of her stomach.
“Spence needs to know you’re sick,” he told her while his fingers moved over his phone, but she pointed to the door while she puked. She did not need an audience while she was sick.
He shook his head at her, looked at his phone again, and then turned and left with his shoulders hunched, which she figured meant Spence was on his way.
Sure enough, Spence arrived within minutes, worry carved into his face. “What can I get you?”
“You can get out. Now! And make sure no one else comes in. Fuck!”
She puked again, mortified Spence was seeing her like this, and he backed out, but Rhea came in minutes later, telling her, “Don’t bother telling me to leave. Spence won’t let anyone else in, butsomeoneneeds to have eyeballs on you. You aren’t the only one who’s sick. What could do this to you? A different kind of poison?”
Emmy nodded. “Shit. Yeah.” She took a closer look at what she’d puked up and didn’t see any blood in it, but still, puking and shitting her guts up and out wasn’t good. She’d never before been sick in her life, and had never puked. Never had so much as a sniffle, much less an actual cold or the flu.
Rhea checked her phone and shook her head. “A king cobra, crocodile monitor, Galapagos tortoise, and you. All sick. All reptiles.”
Technically, Emmy wasn’t a reptile or a bird, but a chimeric hybrid straddling both phyla. Her dragon genetics had undergone adaptive divergence to create the twoclades, birthing the avian grace of birds and the grounded resilience of reptiles from a lineage snuffed out millennia ago, during the horrible night when all the natural dragons had been killed, and all but three dragon shifters who happened to be away at the time.
Killed by fucking poisoning.
“Technically,” Emmy told Rhea, “I’m neither reptile nor bird. I’m genetically kind of both, but neither. It’s like the dragon genetics forked to create the two families.” She sighed. “But if you aren’t sick, this was clearly aimed at reptiles.”
Another wave of sickness hit and she puked again, the force of it leaving her even shakier, and tears rose and then streamed down her face.Poison could kill her. Was she going to die?
She wanted to live, dammit!
More shit came out in an explosion, and she sobbed, her body a battleground of pain and humiliation.
“I’ve asked Felix to bring a washcloth,” Rhea said. “I’m going to the door to get it from him.”
